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Chapter Two
Chapter Two The Masque of the Red Death Inspired by Edgar Allen Poe's Masterpiece A Story Collaboration Written by Kiara Phoenix, Bridgette Montello, Jessica Jean, Sara Dombrowski, Britny Stewart, and Raymee Sullivan Chapter Two This chapter is told in the perspective of Bridgette Montello WARNING: This is an everything-goes fan fiction. Fiction may contain violence, strong language, and sexual themes. You have been forewarned. I ignored the chatter between the other girls as I leaned forward slightly to get a good look at the mansion. Crowds poured into the doors and I wondered: so everyone knows about this ball? As if the creepy man read my mind, Waldo said, "It wouldn't be a ball without guests. My Master wished to host an unforgettable event." "Oh it will be un-fucking-forgettable," Sara sneered. I silently agreed as the vehicle came to a stop in front of the venue. I heard the driver door shut but didn't see the woman enter the building. "I suggest you ladies don't try to run. It would displease my Master and he will take his anger out on your loved ones," the butler-like man stated. I looked at him and he had a smile plastered on his face as he opened the door and stepped out. Raymee was the first to follow. Then Britny, Sara, and Jessica. Kiara looked at me for a moment. I merely nodded to her before I also climbed out of the limousine, and then held out my hand to her. When we touched palms I gave her hand a supportive squeeze before I helped her out of the vehicle. I jerked in surprise as a firework went off, and then followed by more. I looked up at the lights spreading out into the sky and couldn't help but scowl. "He's kidding, right?" I questioned. "Far from it Miss Montello. This way ladies," Waldo announced as he ushered us to the entrance. He politely excused us all through the crowds, claiming that we were very important guests. "They're all idiots," Kiara commented as she looked at the clueless people that wished to attend. "I'd prefer to be one of them," said Britny. "Better them than us." "What's going to happen to them? Are they just gonna walk outta here when the night's over?" Raymee questioned. "That I don't know Miss Sullivan." We continued to follow him, and two men opened the doors that we approached. We gasped in union when we saw what was inside. There were acrobats, swinging over everyone and others stood upon small platforms twirling ribbons or blowing fire. The tile was classic checkerboard, one color tan and the other brown. Statues and candles outlined the room, among other things. I stared in awe as we all walked through the ballroom. At the very end was a band with classical instruments. They sat on an ascended platform covered in red carpet, reading their music as they played. My mouth twisted in astonishment when I noticed they were wearing white, powdered wigs. He's really taking this seriously, I thought. On the left side of the room was a buffet table covered in hors d'oeuvres and beverages. And strangely enough, the waiters were on unicycles. How the hell did the "master" pull this off? On the right side of the room, were large stairs perfectly centered, as if they were the focus of attention rather than the band. They were wide, and as they ascended they split into two sets of stairs, although leading to the same place. I wondered if that led to the "master", if he wasn't in the room already. I bumped into Kiara as the group stopped walking. I quickly apologized and looked at the rest of the girls. Some of them also studied the scene, while others stared downward and fidgeted anxiously. We were attending the most gorgeous party I've ever been to, and none of us were enjoying it. Suddenly the band ceased, and a clinging was heard. Everyone turned their heads toward the cause, and I fumed when I realized it was Waldo; standing on the middle of the stairs; the area before it divided into a duo. He was holding a glass with clear liquid inside it, and in his other hand was a butter knife. "Welcome to the Masque Ball!" he boomed. The guests cheered, all but six. "Your host will join you soon, but for now, please enjoy the entertainment." He walked up the stairs, disappearing into the unseen room. Masked individuals made their way down the stairs when the music started again; men from the left and women from the right. They grouped together on the solo set and lightly danced with hand fans; the men held faux gold ones while the women held white feathered ones. I sighed softly and glanced at the beverages behind us. I wondered if I could get myself drunk and forget this whole thing, but it wouldn't be wise. One drink was needed however, to calm my nerves. I took a glass of what I assumed was champagne and sipped it. I then downed it when my inkling was confirmed. Jessica glanced at me and I turned toward her. She reminded me of Alice, but this was most certainly not Wonderland. "Nervous?" I asked. She nodded and looked down. I grabbed another glass and held it out to her. "Just sip it. It'll calm you down." "But I'm not-" "Are you really concerned about your drinking age, here?" She bit her lower lip and tentatively took the glass from my hand, mumbling her thanks. Apparently the "entertainment" finished, since the room started clapping. I turned toward the stairs again and saw that the group was still there, but now another individual had joined them. He stood after them, centered, with his arms behind his back. The entertainers then tore apart and stood on either end of the stairs as the male slowly descended them. The room fell silent and the air grew thick with intensity. His costume was strange. He wore a black tux with a red cape that seemed to glide against the steps. His skin…I assumed was cosmetics, because it was wine-red. He also appeared to be wearing a mask over a mask, because of the pointed chin and cheekbones that definitely weren't human. Over his eyes was a plain white mask, and when I thought he couldn't look any stranger, it appeared he had purple dreadlocks. "I am your host for this evening," his sultry voice announced. In my peripheral vision, Kiara was tensed up and clenching her fists. I leaned toward her and asked her what was wrong. "That's him," she whispered back furiously. "I just wanna rip his smug face off." "Does…does he really look like that?" I asked as I stared at his wide, Cheshire-cat-like smile. "I'd believe it," Sara interjected. "Why else would he call himself the-" "Shh! Don't let the other people hear…they might panic," Raymee warned. "She's right, let's keep our situation on the down-low," I told them. "What do you think he is?" Jessica asked. "At the risk of sounding like a mad-woman, I'd say he's a demon," KP responded. A demon straight out of Hell.